


Chapter Sixty: Renegade

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [61]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two
Genre: Double Agents, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Other, Rogue Commander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five stels ago, three mechs -- an Elite Guard foot soldier with questionable loyalties, a minor public official, and a rogue Wrecker squad leader -- are embroiled in a government plot to oust Elita One from command as the Senate takes an isolationist stance against Legion.</p><p>
  <i>How many times had our paths crossed</i>
</p><p>
  <i>before we found ourselves on the verge of passing out in the brig?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Sixty: Renegade

The jig is up, the news is out, they've finally found me  
The renegade who had it made, retrieved for a bounty  
Never more to go astray, the judge'll have revenge today  
On the wanted man  
—["Renegade"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXhuso4OTG4) by Styx, from _Pieces of Eight_  
  


**Smokescreen**

_Xantium,_ docked with the _Vindication_  
20 light years from the Betelgeuse Supernova  
Five Stels Ago

  
Smokescreen stared at the unopened message on his datapad. Outside from his vantage on the observation bay, the _Little Revenge_ prepping to leave dock. 

He would have to open the orders sooner rather than later, but he wanted to give Cavalier and her crew ample time to clear the system, in the case....

...in the case...

Smokescreen had not signed up to be a double agent within Autobot ranks. But such was the nature of his parole: he was to report back with any word of the apostate.

 _Apostate._ Their words. Not his. Smokescreen may have missed whatever had happened on Earth since he was reassigned to Iacon, but what he had been told and what he had observed were opposite ends of the spectrum.

They knew Jazz was Elita's mech, and by extension Rodimus's, regardless of the unwavering loyalty to the Autobots. But the Senate...they had to tread carefully. To question the Matrix's wisdom was heresy, but the Senate throwing in their chits with the Covenant for help controlling the masses — 

— he shook away the thought. No, he had a job to do. An important one, for the good of the Autobots as a whole, to stand up against — 

Smokescreen gazed out of the observation window; the Little Revenge had released moors and had pulled away from the _Xantium'_ s docking. 

"Confused yet?" Jazz questioned, by his shoulder and to the left; not a whisper, but low enough that gave Smokescreen the impression his commander was about to divulge need-to-know intel. "Big thing to keep percolating in your back-brain: loyalty's subjective, and ofttimes, it ain't a two-way street."

"If I didn't know any better," Smokescreen retorted, "I'd say that was a blatant jab at me."

"C'mon, man!" Jazz laughed, clapping the other mech's shoulder. "Bad decisions doesn't mean you ain't loyal. Just means you made a bad call. Pop Op knew that, Rodders knew that, I know that." Keeping his hand on Smokescreen's arm, Jazz leaned forward, that quiet tone that contradicted his otherwise boisterous personality. "Thing is, your buddies higher up? The ones thinking you're in their pocket? They don't. They like things face value for us foot soldiers. Scare you straight, so to speak. All about control, you know. Why do you think they get their circuits in a twist whenever Wreckers get deployed?"

"Are you suggesting we're going rogue?" Smokescreen demanded.

"I'm suggesting that we think long and hard about our status in life," Jazz countered, his grin never faltering, "and ask ourselves, 'what would Optimus do?'" His gaze fell onto the datapad in Smokescreen's hands. "Only you know where your loyalty lies, but if I were you, I'd ask who's gonna help you back on your feet, just in the case you trip, and who's gonna leave you choking in the dust."

Smokescreen's gaze met his commander's mirrored visor. Jazz still sported his lazy grin, but there was little stretch of the imagination to envision his optics cold flints of ice behind the visor.

 _He's daring -- inviting me to report back to the Senate!_ Smokescreen scrambled to keep the surprise from his expression, just as Jazz clapped the blue Praxian's shoulder once more before pulling back, striding away, joining Springer as they ventured from the observation deck.

Two rogue commanders. This was...a hitch. But...but Jazz's words resonated. What would Optimus do?

He would say to hell with the political gain. Do what was right. 

And forgive. Good Primus, forgive.

Smokescreen resumed his contemplation of the unread message on his 'pad, and hesitated, finger hovering over the icon as though to open it.

 

  
**Trailbreaker**

Stratocracy Office Wing  
Senate Citadel  
Iacon, Cybertron

 

"Any word from the _Vindication_?" 

The conversation between the two senators to Xaaron's right piqued his interest, but he kept his optics focused on the datapads in front of him. The Vindication had been sent to help with a scientific search and rescue in the Betelgeuse system after the _Xantium_ rallied to the cause. At first, the Senate was prepared to ignore the problem, but then the questions arose: why would Wreckers be interested in a search-and-rescue escort mission with minimal Legion activity?

Thus, they sent an Elite Guard detail to the scene, to "assist." They picked a commander loyal to Elita, loyal to Rodimus, to lead the fortification. They were not without their influence; there were Senate loyalists within the ranks. 

But those may have been compromised; their mech on the _Vindication_ had not reported back by the alloted time frame. Speculation flew, and the questions returned to the one that sparked this particular scenario: Who deployed the _Xantium_?  
Technically, Springer had the authority to deploy the Wreckers however seen fit, but using the flagship required Senate approval. 

"...high percentage were from the campaign on Earth, twenty stels ago..."

"...loyal to Optimus, then..."

"...and with the Wreckers' commander pledging allegiance to Rodimus..." 

Another snippet: "...possible both crews have gone rogue?"

The fast click of heels against the marble floor echoed throughout the chamber as Elita Prime stormed in, joining the discussion unannounced. The talk of the Xantium and the Vindication halted; their deployments, Xaaron learnt from that moment, were being held in secrecy.

"Prime" was a formality to control the public, to put their minds at ease. Elita was popular, a strategic leader during the Resistance against the Decepticons and heralded as a hero amongst the population. It had been the Senate who led their people to believe that Elita was the current Matrix-bearer with Rodimus's disappearance. 

Her first mistake she had made in her illustrious career was to agree to their terms. She would be their figurehead, but they in turn controlled her movements.

What they had not taken into consideration was that Elita had practice in dealing with such constraints.

And what the Senate had suggested...that was heresy as per the Covenant. 

Which was how Xaaron became Elita's supporter.

Many of those who served under her _conjunx endura_ also pledged their loyalty, whether in public or silently, behind the subterfuge of the Senate's bid for control. Optimus had been the shield, the defender, the peacekeeper; an archivist by passion but a police officer by function — a dangerous combination when inciting a revolution against injustice. Even without the shield, Elita was still held the sword, a political powerhouse even chained down by red tape. She rallied the military might of otherwise ragtag Autobots scrambling under the shadow of Shockwave, arranging both ground troops and spies throughout the city-states. As politics went, her leadership of the Autobots was the longest-running successes Cybertron had faced.

The current Senate would have been wise to have remembered that.

"The concentration of Legion in proximity to the Scorpii cluster is problematic," she stated, her voice, while controlled, resonated in the chambers. "Why have we not addressed an increase of system-wide defences?"

"We are awaiting the return of the _Vindication_ to — "

"Why was the _Vindication_ deployed? There had been no offencive campaign assigned to her."

"There had been trouble in the Betelgeusean system — "

"The _Xantium_ should have been more than enough to take care of a single sapper division. There had been no other reports of enemy activity there. The Vindication was to stay in defencive manoeuvres until we had fully investigated the Legion infiltration of our own system. I append my initial question: why was the Vindication deployed, thus weakening out defencive capabilities?"

"Elita, please — "

"I require an answer, not an excuse."

There was a pause, one that stretched close to a half-cycle, before — Xaaron strained to make out the other speaker, and settled on that fool Tomaandi — responded. "We fear the Xantium may have been compromised by a rogue commander."

Finally, admittance. From his desk, Xaaron could not witness Elita's expression, but from her tone — normally cool and collected, now frigid and wavering on a calculated level of anger — she was not impressed. "And on what evidence do you have to support this accusation?"

"Circumstantial at this moment in time," Tomaandi stuttered. 

_Oh, you fool._

"We have reason to believe that Springer is harbouring a known fugitive — "

 _You damned fool._ Standing with a groan, Xaaron pushed away from his desk and exited his office, approaching the two Autobots in the corridor. "If I may, Tomaandi," he initiated, maintaining the patriarchal warmth of his position, "Circumstantial evidence is no reason to suspect Springer's involvement with said fugitive. His loyalty to the Autobots is unwavering." A beat, the length of a spark pulse. "Where did this information come from that the fugitive could have rendezvous with the _Xantium_?"

Elita bowed her head but kept her optics on the grey and red mech. "Have the _Vindication_ return to Cybertronian space; we have more pressing issues closer to home. And I want that intel, circumstantial or otherwise, on my desk ASAP."

"Of...of course," Tomaandi nodded, departing with a swift clip. 

Once he was out of audio range, Elita exhaled. "We are losing time. If they invoke death in absentia — "

"We have another five stels before they can begin the process," Xaaron countered. "But Rodimus's disappearance is the furthest from my worries at the moment." He folded his hands together. "Please, follow me; we need to speak in private." Elita's gaze darted to his office; he shook his head. "I wish to go over some schematics with you regarding a deployment of an non-lethal sonic weapon. They're in the committee chambers — "

 _Aha._ The small chambers were bug-proof, as many inventors presenting their prototypes were keen on learning the methods to rulings regarding said weapons. Whether or not the Senate had their own devices within the room was unclear, but Xaaron had faith in the countermeasure equipment installed. 

She fell into step with the older mech, shortening her gait to match his as they entered Meeting Chamber #74, assigned to serve the Ethic Committee's needs. Locking the door behind them, Xaaron approached the bank of desks, and pressed a button on the central console, engaging a white noise generator. "You are in danger, Elita." His voice, while not a whisper, was low, matching the tone of the generator. He picked up a folder — physical printouts on wire-thin plating — and brought it to her. "I've reason to believe they will go further to publicly discredit you." He opened the folder, making a production of showing her its contents; the emirate's paranoia against his fellow Senate members was disconcerting. "What is transpiring...it goes against the teachings to which I've devoted my existence. And while I have my reservations of the current bearer, I trust the Matrix has its reasons, that Primus guides our paths. However, there is ... speculation ... that the Matrix has been corrupted. And that ... troubles me."

"Have you spoken out against this?" Elita muttered, picking up the schematics for a sonic riot cannon. 

"I...hesitate." He averted his gaze. "They flaunt a pretence of righteousness, of Primus's chosen, but I fear they see the Matrix as nothing more than an archaic bauble. Elita, I am torn. I've asked Primus to instill his guidance; I still await a sign."

Something rustled behind the desk as the emirate spoke; either he ignored it, or missed it completely. While his attention was on the blueprints, she darted her gaze to the desk, then back to the folder. "I'm afraid," she stressed, "we cannot wait for divine intervention." A pause. "Emirate, summon my security detail and have them meet me here, then resume your standard duties. We may not be able to meet again in private."

Xaaron closed the folder and handed it to his Prime. "At once." His tone betrayed his fear; distancing their correspondence was a harbinger of something darker on the horizon.

When he left, she approached the desk, placing the folder onto the surface, spreading the pages. "Your loyalties will be tested over the next sols and stels, my friend," she addressed, planting both hands on the edge and leaning forward as though scrutinising the plans. "Legion will try to take our homeworld; they will meet resistance. The difference will be if we face the adversary united as one, or if we will be fractured, squabbling over control. Xaaron is correct; many Autobots look upon the wisdom of the Matrix to lead them. And while I respect that belief, I cannot allow myself to wait for that wisdom to make itself known. We must be united. The Covenant, the atheists; the Elite Guard, the Wreckers; the warriors, the politicians, the civilians. We all must unite against this threat. Tell me, friend, can I trust you?"

The hitch of a timing belt broke through the white noise generator before Trailbreaker found his voice. "I stand by my Prime," he pledged, a grogginess edged with fear in his tone. "I've no reason to doubt her wisdom."

Not exactly, he groused internally, the best place at the right time to sneak a nap....

 

**Artemis**

****  
_Little Revenge_  
Seventy-five light years from Betelgeuse IV supernova

"And you're certain we can't reprogramme the escape pod to drive itself into a black hole?" Artemis demanded, tilting back in her seat as to stare up at the ceiling.

"While I understand your sentiment, that...might not be the wisest course of action, no," Skyfire admitted.

"So what the hell do we do with Starscream?" Sandstorm demanded. "It's a small ship; we can't just keep him in stockades until we finish our mission."

The five mechs were silent, their gazes falling on everything save one another, before the blue and black mech harrumphed.  
"Do what he would if the rolls were reversed," she growled. "We use him."

Skyfire made a disapproving sound, but otherwise did not offer a countermeasure.

"Maybe I should have stayed on the Xantium," Cavalier whimpered.

 

 **NEXT CHAPTER:** Magnets Coil


End file.
